


Fall on Your Knees

by houdini74



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Boys In Love, M/M, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-03
Updated: 2019-07-03
Packaged: 2020-06-03 09:42:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19461376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/houdini74/pseuds/houdini74
Summary: “It overwhelms him sometimes, the weight of it takes his breath away, makes him want to drop to the ground.”





	Fall on Your Knees

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so I don’t really know what this is. It’s not really a story. It’s not really a poem. Maybe it’s a branded immersive experience? Anyway, I had fun writing it, so maybe you’ll enjoy it too.
> 
> Title is a lyric from the Christmas carol O Holy Night.

It overwhelms him sometimes, the weight of it takes his breath away, makes him want to drop to the ground.

Fall on your knees.

_Go on, David says, desire sparking in his dark eyes. I’m listening._   
_It’s not like that, he explains, blushing a little._   
_Not like I want to get you off._   
_Which I do. But this isn’t like that._

It’s not that he wants to worship David. Or that David would want him to. It’s that he’s been laid bare by what’s grown between them, demolished by the easy intimacy of it all, the casual desire, the simple affection.

The teasing helps. It’s an escape, a release valve. It’s the game they play, the challenge between them, about meeting your match and stepping up to it, rising to each other, playing, taunting, secure in knowing the other will catch them if they stumble. Without that release he thinks he’d be entirely wrecked, laid out on the floor, awash with the sensation of this, of them.

Of mornings, lips pressed to shoulders, hair tousled, hands caressing, gliding across skin, pulling each other closer. Of eyes meeting across their store, across a pillow, at night, at dawn, warm and easy but sharp and bright at the same time.

It’s the touch on his arm when he’s lost in his head, frustrated that a plan hasn’t come together. A hand that flickers across his back, the faintest flutter that sometimes lingers, wanting more. And it’s the touch he gives in return when drama turns to anxiety and the teasing is no longer enough.

It’s comfort and kisses and making everything okay. 

It’s waves crashing, not knowing who is the ocean and who is the shore.

He can taste it sometimes. It’s at the back of his throat when he nuzzles into the nape of David’s neck and is enveloped by the scent that is uniquely him. When he licks the salt from his skin, the wetness from his mouth.

It’s the name he calls out when the strong fingers dig into his hips with lips seeking and marks left behind. It’s bodies, moving together, driven by lust and desire, but also by laughter and joy and love with limbs tangled and hands soothing, making hearts race before the inevitable release and exaltation until one of them reaches out to begin again. 

Fall on your knees.

_Are you sure it’s not like that? David asks._   
_And it burns when his fingers touch him._   
_Yes, David. I’m sure. It’s not like that._   
_Or, it’s not only like that._

He’s drunk with it. Intoxicated by how it fills him up, how it captures his senses, consuming him. There was no life before this, only a blank void, an empty vessel. It should make him sad, resentful, instead the joy submerges him, blocking out everything else.

For the first time, he thinks joyously about growing old. About grey hairs and wrinkles and the complaints that will inevitably arise as David bemoans what they’ve become. He wants to worship and cherish and protect this thing that exists between them, to hold it close inside himself, to share it only with David, something for only the two of them to know. 

He’d gone to his knees for David that day, the day he’d put the gold rings on David’s hand for the first time. When the sunlight struck them he thought that the brightness might pierce him, might pin him to the ground, leaving him there, paralyzed at David’s feet.

Fall on your knees.

_Oh, says David, his eyes soft and warm. Like that._   
_Yes, David. Like that._   
_Exactly like that._

It’s glorious. And it shines.


End file.
